Author's Note: Sorry this one wasn't earlier! I had a busier time this weekend than I thought I would! Who knew being free of exams and lectures and tutorials was so time-consuming? Thank you so much for your reviews; they are very greatly appreciated and I think of them all when I'm writing. Bit of Fiyeraba fluff at the end for you and very important Thropp-family issues throughout the rest.
Enjoy! xx
"You want to leave us?" Frexspar Thropp inquired incredulously, his brow furrowing deeply and accentuating the thick wrinkles that had become more embedded in his high forehead with each passing year. Elphaba had noticed they frequented his face more often when she was the subject of his attention. He had looked imposing to her when he flew in, cloaks lifted into the air by the draught of the doors, with a maniacal look on his face and a thousand burning questions regarding the man embracing his eldest daughter. To Fiyero, however, he looked almost ridiculous. Having listened to the green girl's stories - the very few times she spoke a word about him - he knew that the man's treatment of her was lacking to say the least and that he barely seemed to view her as a human, let alone his own daughter.
What made it worse as they were discovered was that Elphaba's passion and fire seemed to be doused as though she were drenched with a bucket of ice water like a Cat too close to the pantry. She stepped back from her father, eyes down, cheeks red. She had never before been ashamed to be found in his arms. It angered Fiyero greatly that a man who treated her with so little respect could weild so much control over Elphaba (though he doubted such power was ever physically abused; he had never seen any scars or bruises on her).
Elphaba had utterly forgotton where they were when she let Fiyero kiss her; she had remained in a trance of sorts when Morrible had given her the letter from The Wizard and he had conducted the rest of the meeting until the old bag left. Apparantly, she had been satisfied with Elphaba's response. She had smiled, and shook hands and thanked her for her journey. The next thing she was aware of was a sense of satisfaction, of pleasure, when she could finally put her arms around him. She whispered "I missed you" and he kissed her. Fortunately, despite her embarrassment when her father walked in on them, Fiyero's pride of person meant that he took on the task of explaining who he was, requiring only an occasional word of confirmation from her. His brow, now furrowed, had hit the roof when she told him about the Wizard's invitation to the Emerald City Palace.
"I don't want to leave you, Papa. I've been asked to meet The Wizard of Oz." She hissed, in her way, and Fiyero felt her grip his hand behind his back. The bristles on her neck rose. "And you thought I would only ever want to live here? You thought I would only ever want to take care of my sister? Did you?" She barked. Frex's frown began to look more solemn; he had not intended to communicate anything of the sort. "You are so shcoked that I could ever have a life that didn't revolve around you - or this." And she gestured widly to her surroundings.
"You're ungrateful." He said, his soft voice providing a stark contrast to her booming one. "You don't understant what I mean; you never have."
"Ungrateful? I have taken care of Nessa every day of my life. I have put her and you before everything else and I have taken every opportunity to put to good use the chance you gave me when you sent me to Shiz. Yet I have had nothing that a normal person should have. And now that I could do something to effect some change beyond what that brat has for dinner you have the gall to act as though you're hurt? You?"
Frex grew pink, then red. He lost his temper. He lost track of reality and the point he had been trying to make. "Perhaps I would have treated you normally had you earned that right! You have never been normal in your entire life. What kind of daughter speaks so harshly to her parents?"
"I don't have parents, all I have is you!"
"And whose fault is that?" Elphaba tried to speak but her shock made her catch her breath and she hesitated. She felt as though she had almost swallowed her tongue and it made her eyes water. She directed her gaze towards the floor, spluttering and coughing. Fiyero's eyes widened in panic, thinking she was crying and he sat down next to her. Frex calmed down as he watched them; the boy poured her tea and lifted it to her lips. He held her hand. He even kissed it. He asked repeatedly after her and ignored everyone else in the room. It had never occured to Frex to give Elphaba a drink when she was coughing. He had never thought to cuddle her because she had seemed not to want it. Like a house tumbling on his head from the sky, it hit him that perhaps she had been forced to dislike his touch, because he never gave it. Behind Elphaba sat a scratched and dog-eared photograph of Melena on the mantlepiece. Her mother had passed on to Elphaba her distinctive face and her fierceness. Frex felt ashamed; she would have hit him for his treatment of Elphaba. Melena had loved her.
"Perhaps you should leave her alone . . . sir." Fiyero added as an afterthought of being in another man's house. Elphaba had not been crying, but she may as well have and he would not have blamed her.
Frexspar felt that he should leave, too. But he could not let his courage die; he wanted to mend things. Somehow. "Elphaba," he began, in a tone he had never used with her. Only Nessarose was fortunate enought to be the beneficiary of that demeanour. "I'm sorry."
Elphaba looked at him; he seemed genuine. "What are you sorry for? And what are you going to do now? Or tomorrow? Or the next day?"
He breathed deeply, knowing not to respond to Elphaba with anything other than a thoughtful tongue if one wanted to retain her interest. Or her respect. Perhaps even her love. "I am sorry for not treating you as your mother did. As she would have me do. With love. With great love."
Elphaba's eyes smiled at him before her mouth did. "She loved me?" She asked, barely above a whisper. Frex nodded sadly; hadn't she known that? Silence fell. Elphaba looked everywhere but at Frex. "It's not my fault."
"What?" Frex replied, delicately.
"Mother. And Nessa. And me. I never chose to be this way. I never wanted this."
Frex did not respond. Elphaba waited. Fiyero waited. He said nothing and he barely moved. At length, Fiyero took the tea from Elphaba and gave her his own letter. She read it with a smile, more solemn under the circumstances, but a smile nonetheless. She was happy to be invited and had never wanted to visit so much as at that moment. But Frex only granted her a "yes" when she asked if she could, indeed, leave them. Fiyero's worries about justifying the trip so soon after Lurlinemas were dismissed, but he would rather take that challenge than have a silent, sad Elphaba. He hoped the knowledge that her mother had cared for her would be comfort eventually. Frex was a bad father, but he was not, all in all, a bad man. Elphaba saw that, too.
Frex did not.
"He's lying to me." Elphaba whispered as she flipped open a suitcade and carelessly threw frocks into them. Fiyero picked up each one and folded them. "It always hurt me how much I disappointed her. I would love to think she loved me like that, and maybe for a few moments she did. But I know . . . I know what I meant to her. He deludes himself." She unfastened a reticule Fiyero recognised from Shiz and remembered that it had been a gift from Galinda. Elphaba refused to accept anything new, so she gave her an old one. Elphaba loved it. She left the room for a moment and returned with soaps, oils and brushes; her little cosmetic kit.
Fiyero wished he could have said something to counter what Elphaba thought about her mother, but the truth was he had no proof or experience of either her or Frexspar. He could not refute that Melena had not loved her and back it up with an example of how much she cared. His only argument centred around the reasoning that every mother loved her child. He now saw that it was more like 'every mother should love her child.' "Your father doesn't seem to know the time of day anymore. I wouldn't take his word either way." She humphed. "Ask Nanny."
"Nanny?" She asked, shocked. "Nanny's senile."
"Nanny is not!" The old biddy muttered as she shuffled along the landing, to their surprise. Elphaba squirmed inside; the irritating woman seemed to have a talent for sensing when she was least wanted. Though Elphaba craved to know about her mother. "Nanny knows an awful lot. But she won't tell you . . . oh no . . . you and your labyrinth mind. Oh Nany will keep it to herself . . ."
Elphaba rolled her eyes and bit her lip til it bled. Fiyero scolded her. "I hate it when she speaks like that. Like a bloody child. I know she can think straight." They could hear the shrill tones of the old woman as she continued talking to herself along the hall. Elphaba stomped in her direction and brought her roughly back in. Fiyero was surprised at her treatment of frail Nanny, but he said nothing. Maybe she was just pretending the aching joints.
"Tell me about Mama, then, while I pack."
"What a terrible thing it is to talk to you, Fabala." She grumped, squatting in a wicker chair at the window.
"Then talk to Fiyero"
"I don't know him!"
"Never bloody stopped you before. Anyway, he's my boyfriend. There, you know him. Now talk." Fiyero smirked at her frankness but he gawked at Nanny's. As Elphaba began selecting books, Nanny began selecting anecdotes.
"He's your boyfriend, is he? Hips like your mother's you have. She was forever with a man and another man." Fiyero's eyebrows hit the roof. "How many have had you now? Hmm? Lots of boys at that place, Nanny knows."
Elphaba snorted. "Mama was white-skinned and beautiful. And had a wandering eye. I'm not her. I've not had anyone. No one's had me thank you very much." She tossed a book into the suitcase. "I love Fiyero."
"So it's just the one then? Watch yourself, boy, she's the heart and fire of her mother. She'll run you ragged."
"Oh for the love of . . . of whatever or whoever! Tell me about Mama. Fiyero already knows me. And we're leaving soon."
"Yes, you are. Your mother, well. She was a stunning, striking thing. You look like her. You do. Very beautiful. And of course, it meant that it wasn't just her eye that wandered. Her eye made her feet wander, too. And her bed. Do you not remember our houseguests? I would not be surprised if both your parents shared their nights with each of them. You loved the guests, mind. And they did you. Brought you presents because it pleased your parents. Your Daddy bounced you up and down. Your Mama sang to you. No tune or melody I'd ever heard and I've heard a mighty many. You copied her and she soon stopped because your father found it attractive in her and she was more interested in the visitors. Notice, you and Nessa bare more resemblance to your Mama-"
"Stop. Stop it." Elphaba croaked. She grabbed her Nanny by the wrist and shoved her from the chair. "I don't listen to you, I never have, why would I now? We're leaving now."
"Oh yes, and you leave poor Nanny with Nessarose. Pushing about that rickety chair like a boulder. Looks like it should weigh nothing more than your average newborn baby but it's a heavy thing with your sister in it."
"Oh? Really?" She said with heavy sarcasm. "I hadn't noticed during all the years I'd cared for her. But I don't suppose it matters." She sighed, softly closing the case now filled with almost her entire life. "Neither of us should be caring for Nessa. It should be him." Nanny slipped her tiny self from the room and Elphaba stood, hunched, in her effort to intimidate the small woman. Fiyero picked up her case and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I shouldn't have to feel guilty for this. I won't even see Nessie before I go."
"We can stay until she comes back. We can wait for you to say goodbye. After all, you won't see her until the summer now."
Elphaba shook her head. "No. No, let's go. Leaving now will be cruel on her, but when have I ever been considered as anything other than mean-spirited and thoughtless by them all? Staying this once to have a proper farewell will change nothing. They'll tease me for going soft. I'd rather be gone and hated. I don't care for them."
Yes, you do. He thought when he saw her take a seat on the train that would allow her to view Nest Hardings until it disappeared into the distance. Yes, my love, you do.
It was remarkable how much the landscape changed before your very eyes when travelling on the Yellow Brick Railway. Despite the speed and the hunching and lurching of the compartments, the experience was pleasant. From their window, Fiyero and Elphaba observed the flat swamps and marshes of Munchkinland. As the ground grew firmer before their eyes and the flatlands gently rose into hillocks and the morning drew into the afternoon, Elphaba turned into Fiyero's arms and rested her head on his chest. Past the Munchkin River, the Pine Barrens and through the stations that led to the Emerald City. Fiyero saw Elphaba smile a bit. Eventually she fell asleep but woke gently, in a way that reminded Fiyero of Kip, as they rushed through and over the Pertha Hills in Gillikin, past Galinda.
"Time's flying by all the time." She whispered, almost philosophically. "We're nearly there then?"
Fiyero chortled. "Fae, my love, we've been on here for nearly twelve hours We won't reach the Vinkus for a few days." She sat up and looked around, taking in the early evening darkness. "You've been sleeping." She rubbed her eyes and stretched and fell back onto him, noticing he had spread a blanket over them. She asked him to kiss her. "You must have been tired." He said when they broke for a moment. He was very ware that they were alone and it was the middle of the night. No ticket-inspector would come round until the morning. Elphaba held him tighter.
"I didn't know. I hate losing time like that."
"It's not like you missed anything. Some hills and swamps. I would have woken you if there was something interesting." He kissed her again, as he often did when they were alone.
"How would you know what interests me? I find interest in the littlest things. In tiny life. I would have found something."
He smiled. "You seemed much more fascinated in some shut-eye. And my shirt." She giggled (a sound he only ever heard her make in front of him; even Galinda rarely heard it) and teased him, slipping her hand inside his shirt and avoiding his mouth when he kissed it. They played that game for a while, before they struggling to keep their clothes on and Fiyero shut the blinds. "Stop that." He warned, when her hand hovered over his belt. She barely moved back and certainly did not desist in her movements. "Elphaba, don't make me make love to you on a train."
She smiled. "Why not?"
"Because we're on a train!" He hissed. "I'd rather have you on a bed, as your disturbing little Nanny says."
She giggled again and he realised he had parted her legs and placed himself between them. It was delicious. Why all the stalling? He had never wanted something so much since the moment before they first kissed. If he thought that had been exciting, it was nothing to the moments they'd had in their respective rooms or outside. He remembered the first time he'd put his hand up her skirt and placed it on her thigh. She had kissed him fiercely and they only stopped when they heard Galinda's trite little heels clipping in the other room. Since that day it had been his favourite place.
Elphaba had been terrified whenever he came so close to her; Mraic still haunted her physical memory and in her worst nightmares she could feel his hands working over her. She would wake up in fits and sweats and was always grateful when Galinda was not roused by her. Of course, that was not always the case. Elphaba often woke to find her friend leaning over her, shaking her and holding water to her lips. Galinda had known what the matter was, even if Elphaba did not always talk in her sleep. She was wonderful at calming her; it was one of the few times when she said nothing herself and only let her panicked friend talk if she wanted to. Once, they fell asleep together and the next morning Galinda had breakfast brought to them and they ate it in bed. Elphaba marveled at her mothering skills and thought she would make a fabulous Mama one day.
But the feel of Fiyero's hand had been something quite different. The pressure of his body gave her thrilling chills and she craved it. "Why would you want to wait for something monotonous like a bed?" She asked, teasingly, knowing he would give in. "Because I'm so conventional?"
"Because who knows how many people have been here before us!" He exclaimed into her neck as he kissed it and she let her head tip back in pleasure.
"And how many people have done this before us? Yero, my hero, it doesn't matter." It was shameless play, using that name. That petname that he could not resist. Fiyero unbuttoned her blouse, finding it dissatisfying to be blocked by cloth. They moved together, overtaking the motion of the train and starting the Vinkus holiday with the best possible activity.
Roll down the windows - it's steamy in there (just wait til they get to the Vinkus)! Review please!